


Desiderium

by Kashimalin



Category: Notice Me Senpai! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Has some song in it, M/M, Unhappy Ending, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 01:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15353319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kashimalin/pseuds/Kashimalin
Summary: Desiderium: An ardent desire or longing, particularly for something once had and now missed. Grief or regret over the loss of something… or someone.





	Desiderium

**Author's Note:**

> Written per request at the NMS blog!

The basketball pounded against the gym floor, its rhythm echoing over the sounds of squeaking sneakers, cheers of the audience, and the yells of teammates who were trying to support the player with the ball.

Makoto had seized the ball from their end of the court, managing to stop a basket and taking the point with him, all the way to the other end of the court. In a single, swift motion, he passed it off to another teammate, who swung around two rival players.

“You can do it, Makoto!” The voice echoed through the crowd, one that he knew all too well. As he dashed to the other end of the court, weaving through, he saw the source in the audience, standing out among the rest.

His boyfriend gave a thumbs-up, grinning from ear to ear. Makoto could only return the gesture, spinning to receive the ball that was coming towards him.

“I’m open!” In the next moment, it was passed, sailing over heads as Makoto caught it. Then time slowed down as he jumped into the air, pushing the ball towards his waist to gain momentum as he rose. The other team scrambled around him, moving to delay his goal – but it was too late. He was already raising his arms above his head, swinging down towards the basket and hanging briefly as the ball sunk through.

The applause came moments later, the crowd going wild as the tie was broken by two points. With forty seconds left, nobody believed that the other team would be beating Ikemen Academy, solidifying their five-year winning streak.

The buzzer went off and the swell of joy ran through the gym, all the school cheering for their basketball team. In the moments following, every player shook hands, the two captains acknowledging the might of their players and themselves, before moving to retire to the locker rooms.

“Another win!” a second-year cried, leading to a rousing chant, the entire team pumped with energy as they changed or packed up, moving out quickly to go to Friday night celebratory dinners, or home to homework and videogames. Makoto was one of the last to leave, helping tidy up the locker room with the help of a few aiming-to-please first years, listening to their ecstatic commentary of the match. The reviews reminded him of his own first games, starry-eyed and hopeful at the team captain. He had been eager to please then, too, and he knew these kids would be on their way up.

Telling them to take a break and head home, Makoto quickly cleaned up the last of the room himself, moving to collect his bag and leave. As he did, he glanced about, looking for someone, and saw a silhouette some ways down the corridor.

“Hey!” he cried out, walking towards them. They looked up, stepping away from the wall as Makoto got closer.

“Hey.” Yamato’s low, cool voice responded, hoarse from a day of using it.

“Oh.” Makoto’s shoulders fell, but he quickly picked himself up again, tilting his head with a trademark smile. “What’s up, man?”

“Me? Nothing much, you know.” Yamato shoved his hands into his pockets, looking askance. “I just wanted to say you played a good game, and I was happy that I could make it.”

“I’m glad you could too! We played that game hardcore, didn’t we? I was banking on the slam dunk.”

“It really was impressive.” At the sound of Makoto’s voice, Yamato couldn’t help smiling, looking at him while his cheeks turned slightly pink. “You also looked great out there.”

“You think?”

“Mm.” Yamato trailed off then, and Makoto looked about, seeming as if he was going to start walking away.  

“I ended rehearsal early to come, because I wanted to see the match,” Yamato confessed, attempting to continue the conversation before Makoto could say good-bye.

“Really? You were practicing on a Friday? Gosh, aren’t you dedicated!” Makoto grinned, but awkwardly shifted on his feet, looking away from Yamato.

“Well, we have a concert in about a month and a half, so we’re trying to get all the practicing in while we can. Some of the guys are in college, you know, and it’s harder to practice.”

“I hear you, I hear you. On that concert, I’d love to come see it, and—“

“Makoto.”

The smooth, quiet voice filtered into the conversation, and an arm slipped about Makoto’s elbow, moving close.

“H-Hinata!” Yamato had never seen the boy shift so quickly – in an instant, he was looking at the person next to him with a soft look on his face. Hinata returned it with a small smile.

“Weren’t you going to come with us to a celebratory dinner? Sousuke’s waiting out in the car, and we shouldn’t keep him waiting…”

“Of course! I would have come earlier, I’m sorry. Yamato, man, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” He gave him a wave as he walked off, instantly picking up a conversation with Hinata a few moments later. Yamato pulled his hands out of his pockets as he watched them go, staring sadly at their retreating backs. As they turned a corner and were out of sight, Yamato began to pick out guitar chords with his fingers, strumming invisible strings as he moved back down the corridor and into the night air. He could still hear the cheers of students as they left, and he tried to not imagine Makoto among that crowd, with someone else hanging off his arm, as they so often did.

 _I wouldn’t be that clingy._  The thought prevailed his mind the entire way to the performing arts building, and he went inside, still hearing the sounds in his mind until they were disrupted by the sound of upbeat music booming from the dance practice rooms.

 _Are those two still going?_  Yamato had left the building earlier and heard them practicing, and that was three hours ago. The yells of Jae counting to the rhythm and Suzuki singing a song joined then, and he gave a sigh as he entered his own practice room, slamming the door shut. The soundproof foam instantly quieted the space, and Yamato took a deep, calming breath. He drops his bag next to the baby grand as he lifts the lid up from the keys, moving to raise the post and position it perfectly. Moments later, he’s settled on the bench, blank staff paper before him and a pencil in hand. His foot taps a beat, slowing and speeding up to find the perfect starting tempo, and he writes in the title, slowly looping and etching it firmly onto the top. Then, his other hand moves to the piano, playing a series of chords and marking ideas down on the paper, laying the foundation for what was to come.

* * *

Makoto stifles a laugh as Sousuke aims for a spicy crab maki, placing it on his smaller dish to get a small dollop of wasabi on it. With a shaking hand, he lifted it in his chopsticks and shoved it into his mouth. Moments later, he aims for a glass of water, the beverage doing little to ease the pain in his mouth.

Across the table from Sousuke, Hinata chuckles, hiding his grin behind his hand. Makoto’s heart warms at the sight, and he tightens his arm around Hinata’s waist only briefly, pulling him into a half hug as he aims for the last remaining piece of spicy crab.

“Do you want me to get more? That way, this time…” Sousuke sends a glare Hinata’s way as he pauses, but finds himself unable to keep the amused grin off his face, “Nobody orders a spicy roll that only one person at this table can tolerate.”

“If that’s what you want to do,” Hinata responds, settling down and glancing back at Makoto, who nodded.

“All right. I’ll be right back.” Sousuke pushed his chair back and stood, moving to find the chef and go up to request another order. After he was out of sight, Hinata leaned into Makoto, placing his head into the crook of his shoulder.

“Mako…” His voice is gentle and soft, and Makoto feels himself grow hot at the sound. “What were you and Yamato talking about earlier?” His hand moves across his waist, finding Makoto’s and lacing their fingers together, his grip tight.

“It was nothing important, Hina,” he responds, craning his neck to glance down at him.

“But he stopped you in the hallway. He waited all that time for you to get out of the locker room. I’m concerned.”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“I think I do if he’s waiting for you like that.”

“Hinata.” Makoto’s grip tightens, rivaling Hinata’s own. “You’re overreacting. I promise, there is nothing, and you need to calm down.”

Hinata pauses, pulling away from Makoto and looking into his eyes. They flicker back and forth, looking for any sign of doubt – and he finds none. His expression softens, giving a sigh.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all good, Hina.” Makoto smiles gently, moving in to kiss him, a quick little peck that he accidentally lingers on for too long—

“Gross.” Sousuke’s voice interrupts the moment, and the two tear apart, spinning to face him with embarrassed expressions. They all break out laughing a moment later, settling back into position to talk about the game as they enjoy the remainder of their night out together.

* * *

Yamato was seated on the couch in the café, plucking quietly at the strings in an attempt to piece together chords, trying to not wake up Ren, who was napping on the other side. On the coffee table before him, Yamato had spread out all his notes and music, working out the progressions as he glowered at the lyrics, muttering them to himself as he tapped his foot, trying to piece together the entire start.

“You’re working hard, Yamato-senpai.” He glanced over at the person who approached him, watching her hold out a mug of coffee. She gave him a smile as he took it gently, whispering his thanks as he turned back to his music. “I’m sure the song will be fantastic.”

“I’m hoping it will be.” He placed the mug down, careful to avoid his sheets as he went back to the guitar. The bell over the door rang and she looked up, giving the customer a wave. “Hello, Makoto-senpai! The basketball team’s order is ready; let me get it!”

“Take your time!” he called after her, moving into the café a bit before coming up alongside Yamato. He tensed at the sudden closeness, not wanting to look towards him – but he became aware of him looming over his shoulder, overlooking the music that he had been working on. He felt exposed. He didn’t want Makoto to see the song that was so personal to him, being  _written_  for the boy that was now behind him and judging  _his_ work…

“It looks like it will be a cool melody,” he finally says, leaning back. “What’s it for?”

Yamato stays quiet. His eyes widen and he doesn’t dare want to say a thing, holding back his words, biting his lip. If he said a word, it would all flood out. He couldn’t have that, not  _now_ , there would be no point since Hinata was there, and he had done it first—

“Makoto-senpai!” She brought out the large tray, and Makoto moved to take it from her instantly, flashing a grin at her.

“Thank you! They’ll be happy to have these. Yamato! You owe me the song explanation. I want to hear it!” He dashed out, holding the drinks steady as the door swung shut behind him. Yamato stared after his retreating back, watching until he was out of sight through the glass door and windows. His face was forlorn, steadily watching what was no longer there, before turning back and beginning to strum again, finding the beat and rhythm that he had lost.

* * *

Yamato groaned over his sheet music, pencil dropping to the floor. He moved his fingers to the keys, not bothering to focus on what he was playing. He let the notes drift out instead, trying to make something happen with the music. He felt his hair steadily drooping before his eyes, distracting him only briefly before he brushed it away.

 _Why is this not coming together?_  He glowered at the music, as if intimidating it would make the song compose itself. However, no marks etched themselves across the paper, and no bursts of inspiration made themselves known.

With a sigh, Yamato put his fingers to the keys, playing through what he had to see if any progress could be made on that front. Within moments, he had settled himself into the melody, humming along to the lyrics that he had yet to completely compose—

The door kicked open, and Yamato’s fingers hit the keys, sounding a dissonant chord. He resolved it with a quick melody and turned to face the door, glaring at the offenders.

Suzuki strolled in, toting blankets and pillows behind him. Jae came in right behind him, carrying a similar load. They unceremoniously dumped them onto the floor, and Yamato could only stare at the scene before him.

“What the hell, guys—“

“Shh!” Suzuki held a finger to his lips, grinning at him. “We can explain.”

“Since you’ve been holed up in here all night,” Jae continued, moving to adjust the pillows and blankets on the floor, “You probably didn’t hear that your manager dropped the concert date on your twitter today.

“Oh come  _on_ …” Yamato slapped a palm to his forehead, giving a hefty groan.

“I know, Yama-kun. I think all the fangirls are excited for you to graduate soon.” Suzuki flopped onto the blankets, falling against a pillow.

“And those same fangirls are outside the school gates right now. So, Suzuki and I got all the blankets and pillows we could grab out of our dorms. If you’re gonna be here composing all night anyway, we want to be here and keep you company.”

Yamato gave a sigh, but moved to join them on the floor, going to close the piano lid out of habit. However, as he did so, he neglected to remember the sheet music there, and swept them off by accident, muttering a curse to himself as they all fell to the floor. Suzuki grabbed a few, looking at the lyrics as he did so. He hummed the melody line, and Yamato glowered at him, aiming to snatch the music sheet. Suzuki moved it as he did so, still reading along.

“This sounds like a break-up song, Yama… or a denial song… or…” Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he sat up, whipping around to stare at Yamato. “What did you do?”

Instead of replying, Yamato grabbed the sheet, slightly crumpling it as he stuffed it all into a folder, leaving it be next to his bags as he settled back down with a huff on the piles of blankets.

“Aren’t you gonna keep working?” Jae glanced up from his phone, but Yamato shook his head. “It’s nothing important. I’ll finish it later when prying eyes aren’t reading my music.”

Suzuki laughed, leaning his head back to look at Jae. “He’s probably just like, emotional about something. Yama-kun gets that way.”

“What’s it about, Yamato?” Jae puts his phone down now, looking at their friend. Yamato moves to place a hand over his eyes, giving a groan.

“Like I said, it’s nothing. Just drop it, okay?”

“Is it about Makoto?” Suzuki’s voice dropped, his eyes full of concern as he stared at the musician, who had no answer for him.

“What about Makoto?”

“Oh, well, Yamato—“

“Suzuki.” His tone was cold and deep, interrupting the other boy instantly. Suzuki’s face fell at that, and Yamato pulled his hand away, looking up at him, his mouth a thin line.

“It’s in the past now. It’s not important anymore.”

“I think it is if you’re writing a whole song about him,” he retorted. “You’re always like that. Putting everything on paper before you can say it in person.”

“It’s how I operate,” Yamato said, and suddenly, he folded as a pillow slammed into his abdomen, knocking the air out of his lungs. “Ow! What the hell was that for!”

“Because you’re being negative! Let’s go!” Suzuki stood up at that, brandishing a pillow. “I’m gonna cheer you up with a pillow fight!” 

“How’s that supposed to cheer me up?” Yamato’s tone was bitter, but he was already getting up, readying his own weapon as he faced Suzuki. “If I win, you’ll play the piano part at my concert.”

“You know I’d already do that for you anyway, right Yama-kun?”

“Yup.” With that, he swung at Suzuki’s face, the idol only just getting out of the way in time to fight back.

“Don’t get feathers everywhere—!” Jae’s warning fell on deaf ears as the two began, Suzuki breaking out with laughter within moments, and a smile crossed Yamato’s face, the company and cheer bringing up his mood.

_Man, am I grateful for their company._

* * *

“It’s going to be a minor chord there, obviously, that’s the  _point_  of the measure.”

“But that’s not fair! Why not use the fourth? The fifth will resolve nicer, sure, but maybe we could make it a half cadence instead!”

“That’s not what  _I_  want, though. Suzuki, this is a song about my feelings, and it’s got to be about how I feel. And I feel a fifth that resolves to a one chord.”

Suzuki frowned, opening his mouth to make a conclusive counterargument when the sound of the bell ringing over the door caught his attention. The two glanced over, but Yamato turned back to the piano instantly, feeling a blush rising on his cheeks. He felt an elbow painfully dig into his side, and he turned to Suzuki, who nodded at Makoto.

“Go sit with him! You need a break anyway.”

“No, I can’t—“

“Yama-kun, yes you can. Go ask him!”

“I  _can’t_ —“

Suzuki moved to push him off the bench then, and Yamato managed to sidle off, sending one last glare his way before moving towards Makoto’s table.

“Hey, man,” he says, moving to rub the nape of his neck, hoping his cheeks aren’t too red. “You want some company?”

Makoto paused a moment, staring up at Yamato. And for a moment, he thought that he was going to say yes – but that elation was dashed as Makoto gave him a sad smile.

“No, Hinata’s joining me. I think he wants lunch alone together.”

Yamato nodded, once. It was strict and firm, and he turned on his heel without replying, stalking back off towards the piano. Suzuki stood as he approached, moving to gather up the sheet music, but Yamato stopped his hands, beginning to sit back down.

“You can’t stay—“

“I’m staying. He’s with Hinata. It’s fine.” 

Suzuki stared for a moment longer, debating dragging him out, but he sighed and settled back down in his seat instead, moving to scribble in the chord he wanted before they began to get back into the swing of the beat. It only became disrupted once more when Hinata entered. He sent a smile their way – almost smug – and went to settle near Makoto, kissing his cheek before sitting down.

“He’s trying to rile you up,” Suzuki murmured, moving to place his hand on Yamato’s, but he wrenched it out of his grip. 

“I don’t care. It’s working.”

“Yamato.” Suzuki’s voice was firm, and he moved to grip Yamato’s hand, not allowing him to pry it out this time. “Let’s  _go_.”

He resisted moving at first, but Suzuki heaved him up, dragging him out of the café after collecting his music and slamming the door shut behind them. With that, he kept walking him towards the music building, pulling him farther and farther away, holding his hand the entire time.

“I want that with him,” he finally said, his voice quiet and hoarse. “I want that.”

“I know, Yama-kun.”

“Why did he get him? What do they see in each other? Can’t… can’t he see? …Doesn’t he know?”

* * *

Yamato clicked his tongue as he finally finished writing the last page. He stared at all the pages, deciding that a slow, agonizing play-through to begin placing lyrics would be best. Digging through his bag, he pulled out the notebook he had been writing them in, propping it open next to the music and beginning to play through, watching the words trail across before him.

 _I just need to get this done. The first stage rehearsal’s in two weeks_. With a fire to finish it so that it could be featured in his album, he began to play a bit more furiously, completely focused.

However, a knock distracted him a few moments later.

“Come in, Suzuki,” he said, giving a sigh as he couldn’t think of who else it would be. However, the door opened and they didn’t start talking right away, so Yamato turned to see who it was—and felt his throat stick.

Makoto stood in the doorway, a hand on the doorknob as he stared at Yamato. He instantly felt his face begin to heat up, turning back to the piano… but his fingers began to shake and he was unable to continue, trying to focus on everything aside from Makoto.

“I wanted to ask about the song. You never did tell me what it was for.”

“I don’t want to tell you,” Yamato sneered, recoiling slightly as Makoto moved to sit next to him on the bench. “And I don’t have to.”

“It’s not hard to figure out. What’s it about?” He moved to absently hit the piano keys, hitting awkward notes and strange rhythms with a soft laugh. “This is the one thing I was never good at.”

Yamato resisted the urge to stuff his fingers in his ears at the sounds, and sighed, saying, “It’s about someone I love. And I just… can’t do anything about getting them. They’re too far away from me.”

Makoto nodded once, glancing over at Yamato. “Is it me?”

Yamato tensed up, remaining stone-faced. “No.” 

“You think I don’t see your stares across the café? Or the way you got close to me when I tutored you, or how you always used to tell me your pieces… and this is the one song you get quiet about.”

Yamato didn’t respond, instead cracking his knuckles and going back to the piano to play again, moving through the song as Makoto read along, frowning at the lyrics before him.

“That’s an interesting title,” he said quietly. “I remember that word, too.”

“Mm.” Yamato kept going, working through the distraction of Makoto tapping his foot before standing, giving another sigh.

“I’m sorry, Yamato. But it won’t happen. I never felt the way you did.”

“Think I haven’t noticed by now?” His reply came out harsher than intended, and Makoto looked taken aback – but if it bothered him, he didn’t say another thing about it.

“I hope the concert goes well.” With that, he turned around and pulled open the door, slamming it shut behind him as he walked out. Yamato’s hand left the keys, the piano stopping suddenly as he released the pedal. Quietly, he closed the lid, moving to cross his arms on the piano and rest his head in them, burying his face in an attempt to block out everything else around him, and just focus on what could have been.

* * *

Yamato was not at all ready to perform by the time he got on stage for the final song. Usually, he lived for the audience, for the cheers and spotlight, playing for all his adoring fans.

But tonight, he had been itching to debut the encore – get it over with. Its significance was too much to bear, and he had to let it out; leave it to the air, make Makoto listen, and then, never sing it again. He and Suzuki had been working on it until hours before they recorded it for the producers and the album, ready to give it out live the next evening. His heart and soul was pressed into it, and he was ready to let it go.

As the crowd went wild after the false ending, Yamato spoke his scripted speech, moving to get a stool from a stagehand as another three wheeled the piano out. He placed it center stage, just a bit away from the grand as the lights dimmed to hold a series of spotlights over them.

“Tonight, I’m gonna leave you all with the last track on my new album. It’s been a long time writing, and the piece really means a lot to me. I hope that you all appreciate it.” Turning around, he held out a hand to introduce Suzuki, who bowed from by the piano to the screams of other fans. Settling down onto the bench, Suzuki took a moment to compose himself, making brief eye contact with Yamato before his fingers moved to the keys. He began slowly, playing deep, suspended chords that set the mood. Yamato joined in with a steady harmonic line, swaying slightly to the beat. His fingers felt separate from his body, moving independently to create the music.

Yamato felt his voice begin to sing, perfectly in time, but he didn’t hear the words. He focused on the crowd, eyes searching desperately for the person that he needed to sing for. It was for  _them_ , and they had to know that.

He heard the piano booming in his ears, feeling the tempo as it kept him calm, reminding him of his primary duty –

 _Makoto had his arm around Hinata._  Of course, there he was, exactly where he had invited them both to sit. In the VIP seats, by all his other classmates who he had offered tickets to. They were all watching the stage with an intense stare. At the sight, Yamato nearly felt the need to cry, and went to look away, swinging his head down…

_…and slamming it onto the desk. With a heavy groan, Yamato felt like giving up. The homework felt impossible, as it always did. Science escaped him, history felt pointless, and math failed to make any sort of sense. He hated every part of it. Yamato moved to collect his books, intending to leave the library and try again later._

_“Hey, you!”_

_The excited whisper came from behind Yamato’s back, and he spun around to ask the person what they wanted._

_However, he came face-to-face with a brilliant smile, grinning widely at him. For a moment, he was stunned by its brilliance, his eyes widening at the sight. The boy continued talking, taking advantage of Yamato’s silence._

_“You seem to have a lot of trouble keeping up with your studies. If you want, I can tutor you! I see you in the library way too often, and know you’re some sort of famous musician… but that doesn’t mean you can skimp your studies.”_

_“And what do you know about them?” Yamato found himself sneering, moving to spin back around. The boy grabbed his shoulder, however, stopping him. Yamato paused, feeling how warm his hand was, unaccustomed to the strange touch._

_“That you’re struggling. Here, let me tutor you!”_

_Yamato gave him an offended look, but he sighed, scooting his chair over to let the other boy come sit next to him. He leaned over Yamato’s shoulder instead however, eyes glancing over the paper._

_“What are you working on? The math homework?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“That’s not too hard. In fact, let me…” He quickly moved to his folder, flicking through before producing a blank sheet of paper, laying it flat as he placed his books out to tug a pencil from behind his ear. “This is what you have to do.”_

_Within minutes, he had drawn up what was essentially a cheat sheet. He slid it towards Yamato, explaining it and going through the sample problems. Yamato could only stare like it was some sort of magic, unable to process what he had just done – but understood it all perfectly._

_“There!” Makoto grinned, moving to stack his books once again. “That should do it. You and I can talk later about regular sessions, if you’d like.”_

_Yamato looked up and found himself almost getting lost in Makoto’s bright aura again, before shaking his head and finding his words.  “What can I do to pay you back?”_

_“Hmm…” Makoto tucked a hand under his chin, pondering the question. “Well, if you want to do this every few days… maybe you could come to the basketball games!” He grinned again, and Yamato frowned._

_“That’s it? You know I can pay you, or get you lunch right?”_

_“Nah. Just come to the next game! Promise!” With that, he lifted his books and waved. “I’ll see you there!” Yamato watched him go and then gave a sigh, moving back to work through the problems, using the sheet that Makoto had written up for him the whole way through, not struggling once._

_He attended the game as requested, and Makoto was ecstatic to see him. He was happily calling out his name and sending smiles his way, and Yamato felt his heart warm at each one. He couldn’t help but return them, watching Makoto dash across the court and compete with the other team in an impressive feat of teamwork and natural skill._

_In those days, all through his second year and into his third year,  he hoped he would get a chance, thinking about asking Makoto out and having some sort of relationship… but that was not meant to be._

_Hinata entered Makoto’s life quietly. He would sit near them in the café, coming up to their table with a nervous stutter and a soft gaze. When Yamato had to go on tour, he came back to something that he hadn’t thought of fearing – Hinata taking his place in Makoto’s heart._

_He found them eating at the café together almost every day. When Makoto’s birthday came around, Yamato was unable to get his gift to him first – instead, Hinata called him aside and passed his own to him._

_And Makoto didn’t once push him away. Yamato found himself steadily being replaced, becoming more concerned as he grew distant, deciding that Makoto wasn’t worth asking for tutoring anymore. He made his own way through those last few months._

_Until the news of advancement in the relationship hit him unexpectedly – destroying what little hope he had left._

_“I’m so happy for him,” Yamato hears Sousuke comment one day in the café. His head snaps up, and Suzuki looks at him, raising an eyebrow._

_“What do you mean?” Yuu asks, and Akira looks up curiously too._

_“About Makoto and Hinata,” Sousuke continues. “They’re together now. And I couldn’t be more proud of him for moving on.”_

_“That’s amazing!” The scrape of a chair is heard as Yuu inevitably gets out of his chair, moving to embrace Sousuke with excitement. “I’m so happy!”_

_From elsewhere in the café, Yamato feels his heart drop. That was it. He had missed his chance, lost his opportunity. And he was never going to get it back._

…He came out of his thoughts as he felt a tear come to his eye. Yamato sneered, biting it back, refusing to let it fall and glisten on his cheek from the stage lights and be seen by all. He looked away from Makoto, casting his eyes out toward the back of the crowd, belting out the chorus one last time, letting it rise above all else.

…

_“Desiderum, Desiderum,_

_Wash all my worries away…_

_Desiderum, Desiderum,_

_Why can’t I let go and say…_

_Good-bye, good-bye…”_

…

The crowd broke into applause, and Yamato turned away.

He couldn’t face Makoto anymore.

He couldn’t look him in the eye ever again.


End file.
